Ah, stern cold man, How can you lie so relentless hard While I wash you with weeping water! Ah, face, carved hard and cold, You have been like this, on your guard Against me, since death began. You masquerader! How … Continue reading →

“Je est un autre.” Rimbaud He is the man who makes notes, The observer in the tall black hat Face hidden in the brim: He has watched me watching him. The street-corner in Buda and after By the post-office a … Continue reading →